A Moment Ago
by LauriAnn
Summary: Long Time Gone Sequel. Ron's finally starting to get things right. He's got this dad thing down, he's got the perfect girl, and his Auror dream. So, it's only a matter of time before things start going wrong. Pretty soon, he'll wish it was a moment ago.
1. That Pathetic

**A Moment Ago**

_Lala Land 22_

Summary: Ron is just trying to be a hero. He can stay or go. But what happens when Hermione and he end up in a place they never wanted to be. Can they really save their universe? Sequel to Long Time Gone.

A/N: I'm baaaaaaaaaack!!!! Hi, guys! Welcome to Chapter One of the sequel to Long Time Gone. I've never written a sequel and I'm so excited. Dance!!! Read on, and I hope you like it.

* * *

I stuck my sweaty palm in my pocket and attempted to wipe it off. I had to keep breathing and stay calm. This was the easy part. That's what George had told me. If you struggle with this, you're not ready in the first place. 

Oh, who was I kidding? I'd never make it through this with my dignity.

"Ron, where are we going?" Hermione's voice asked, giggling slightly.

"You'll see," I assured her, sounding much more confident than I felt.

"That's the thing, Ron. I can't _see_ anything." She laughed again.

"Well, good," I said, toying with the back of the blindfold over her eyes. I planted a small kiss on her lips. That made things seem a little easier.

"No fair!" she said. "I can't even see you, much less kiss you."

I laughed. "Get over it. There's a pretty big step here," I told her, putting my hand in the small of her back and nudging her up the stairs. She grasped the rail and turned around to where she thought I was standing.

"Ron, where are we?!" she demanded.

"Nowhere, just keep going."

She stuck out her tongue and went up the last step. She lost her balance.

"Whoa!" I said, pulling her back so she didn't do a face plant. She smiled at the me she couldn't see. God, she was beautiful. Her long, dark hair falling all over the place, the perfect teeth she was showing me. She smelled really nice. I didn't know what the bloody hell that scent might be, but it was so perfect for her. "All right, keep walking," I said,

pushing her forward.

"Are you trying to make me trip again?" she asked, pulling on the walls on both sides of us to move herself forward.

I stepped in front of her. "All right, stop."

She did as she was told and stood still, waiting for me to give her further instructions.

I pushed open the door to my left. "We're coming in here."

"Where are we?!"

I pushed the door closed behind her and forced her to sit in the cushion seat behind her. I reached my arms behind her head and slowly untied her blindfold, feeling my hands shaking the entire time. I took it off and stood back, allowing her space to look around.

Hermione's brown eyes traveled all over the place. She stood up and looked out the window of the compartment, staring at the children beginning to gather outside.

"Ron, where--"

Her eyes glued on mine. "Are we on the Hogwarts Express?"

I had apparently lost all ability to talk. Sure, I could face Death Eaters, dark creatures, and whatnot, but put me in front of the woman I loved with this task and watch me crumble. I was a failure. So, all I could do was nod mutely.

"But, why?" she asked raising an eyebrow.

C'mon, Weasley, you've been repeating this to your mirror for weeks. Just get it out.

I cleared my throat. She looked at me expectantly. "T-twelve years ago, I got on this train for the first time. I didn't have any idea of what was going to happen to me during or after that train ride. I didn't know I'd make friends with a hero and a know-it-all, have to fight Voldemort at least five times, and become an Auror myself. In fact, I thought it was just going to be a normal train ride." I shrugged. "I guess I was wrong."

Hermione smiled, still giving me a questioning look.

"The last thing I expected on that train ride was to meet such an annoying, pushy little girl. The girl I would fall in love with."

Hermione's eyes grew wide. She had finally caught on.

I got down on one knee. George was such a liar. This was the hardest thing I'd ever had to do!

"So, here I am twelve years later. Guess it's back to the beginning, huh?" Deep breath, I can't chicken out now. "Hermione, will you marry me?"

I could feel my heart pumping faster than it ever had. What was I doing? Why was she taking so long to answer?! Was she about to say no? Oh, bloody hell, I forgot to pull the damn ring out!

I quickly reached my hand in my pocket and withdrew the ring I had picked out, and held it out for Hermione's surveillance. Of all the things she could've said or done in the moment, what did she do?

She laughed.

"Hermione…" I turned red.

She shook her head. "Yes, Ron, get up and stop being ridiculous. Of course, I'll marry you."

I finally felt safe enough to crack a smile. I got up and pulled her up in my arms. She kissed me several times. After a couple of more celebratory kisses, I rested her on her feet. She held out her hand and allowed me to slip the ring onto her finger. It glistened there in perfection; it said, 'Hey, this girl is taken, back off before her fiancée kicks your ass.'

The door to our compartment was pulled open, and we both stared at the intruder of our rendezvous. It was a short kid; at least, a first year.

He turned and walked out. "I'm going home," the kid mumbled.

* * *

"What do you look so happy about?" Harry asked, as I strolled into the Auror headquarters at the Ministry of Magic. 

I stopped whistling. "Nothing."

"That's not nothing," Harry said, spinning around in his chair. "That's a Hermione-smile."

That had became Harry's favorite term a year and a half ago when Hermione had dropped out of the blue and back into our lives. I would be out on a date with a different girl, and come back, and Harry would ask me why in the world I had a Hermione-smile. It hadn't been funny back then.

"It's none of your business," I told him.

"You proposed, didn't you?"

"No." Damn me and these damn ears. Why did they always turn red?!

"I can't believe you didn't even tell me, you prat!"

"Well," I dropped my voice, rolling my eyes, "we were going to tell everybody at the same time."

Harry nodded. "Ohhhhhhhh."

I nodded back.

"So, tell me then, how does one go about proposing?"

I made my way into Harry's cubicle and sat down on the chair in front of his desk. Different scribbling in various languages was tacked all over his walls. Then, there was a picture on himself, Hermione, and me, and posters of various Quidditch teams.

"Well, I took her onto the Hogwarts Express and I gave this speech, and I did the whole down on one knee thing and asked her to marry me."

"What did she do? Bet she freaked, didn't she?"

"No, not really. Well, see, first I forgot to take the ring out of my pocket, but then I remembered and did so, and she told me to get up and stop being ridiculous, because of course, she'd marry me."

"Sounds creative. Better than what I would have expected of you."

I should've beat him up for that last comment, but I guess my engagement euphoria lets things slide. "I'm just glad it's over. What's been going on here?"

"Oh, nothing much," Harry said, shuffling his papers around on his desk. "Bobby Loudon got a call about some weird going-ons up around Scotland."

"Near Hogwarts?" I asked.

"Nah," Harry said shaking his head. "Sounded fascinating though. I tried to talk Kingsley into letting me take the case, but," Harry sighed, "he was all, 'Potter, you're already on a case.'"

"Wayden's been gone for a while now," I said randomly.

"Yeah, things have been pretty boring without him."

Jamison Wayden had become somewhat of a fixation with me. Once he was dead, all of this mess would be over. There would no longer be two separate realities, my daughter would no longer be in danger from ex-Death Eaters, and there would no longer be the continuing looming fear of Voldemort finding the necessary means to return to power.

"What are you doing after work today?" Harry asked, evening out a stack of parchment.

"Well," I began, reaching in my pocket, "I just so happen to have four tickets to the England-Bulgaria Quidditch match tonight."

Harry jumped up from his desk and grabbed the tickets out of my hand. "No way!"

"Way."

"How did you get those?"

"Goldstein up in the Magical Games and Sports department set it up."

Harry handed me the tickets back, staring suspiciously. "Under what circumstances?"

"Griselda and him have season tickets from what I know. They couldn't go tonight since there's some special ceremony because Gris is now a certified healer for St. Mungo's."

"Wow," Harry said, nodding, "impressive." I had to agree. Griselda Raleigh, my ex-girlfriend, was admittedly a pretty impressive person. She was pretty impressive to talk to me ever again after she found out how I felt about Hermione.

"You know, when the next term ends, Ginny will be having her ceremony." I arched my eyebrows suggestively.

"You don't say?" Harry said, suddenly becoming very fascinated with the papers on his desk.

"Yep, my little sis, Ginny Weasley, is going to be a real Healer."

"Drop her a congratulations from me." Harry and my sister had officially severed ties after they broke up the previous year. Harry and Ginny had always been off-and-on in their relationship, so no one expected them to quit socializing all together after a huge row in July of last year. Hell, we're all at the same get-togethers all the time; I've yet to figure out how they've gone for over a year without speaking to each other.

"What's that?" I asked, swiping a piece of parchment out of Harry's hand.

"It's something from Dumbledore. It doesn't make much sense."

I scanned over the letter for a moment. "Why won't he just tell us where he's at?"

"It's top secret. It could be intercepted. The list of possible reasons goes on and on. But, apparently, he's still 'waiting' for us."

"Waiting for us?" I asked incredulously. "What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"I don't know!"

I ran a hand through my hair. Harry and I hadn't exactly made a lot of progress in the time since we'd realized about the time split, the Missing Link, and whatnot. In fact, the only other thing we'd really found out since than was that a prophecy made about my daughter, Baker, mentioned that she was a bi-product of two members of the trinity—the trinity being Harry, Hermione, and I. It wasn't like we were so dense we didn't already know that. And, she was going to help us destroy Voldemort. But, that was about it.

Harry picked up Dumbledore's letter and hurled it at the wall. He stubbornly crossed his arms. "Stupid Dumbledore."

"Was that you, Potter?" Kingsley's voice cut through the hall.

Harry muttered obscenities under his breath.

"Pick it up."

"I will not," he whispered, so just I could hear him.

"I mean now, Potter!"

Harry got down on his knees and started crawling around, picking up papers.

I had begun laughing quite uncontrollably now.

"Weasley!"

"Yeah," I said, suddenly stopping and looking back.

Harry sniggered at me, mouthing 'you're gonna get it trouble.'

"Good job today. Head on home."

Harry's mouth dropped open and I smirked at him, walking toward the lifts.

* * *

A/N: Short, sweet, not too much action, but hey, you gotta start somewhere! So, I am only still working on Chapter 2 since my plot is getting a bit of a facelift thanks to gay and/or queer computers! I'll see y'all again in a while. Don't be afraid to check out my other stories too. 

'Hit That' (based on Hit That by the Offspring)

I'm on a roll  
Getting all the reviews I can  
I wrote a new story  
Ain't too bad  
I'm on a roll  
So click that review button  
I know you wanna hit that!  
I know you wanna hit that, hit that!


	2. You Don't Have to Call Me Darling

A/N: Hi, guys! It's time for Chapter 2 do do do dooooo! Sorry, you know, couldn't resist. Major shoutout to cheese riot who I'm sure all you guy's know is my great beta by now! If anyone can spot her favorite double meaning in this chapter then you're…as cool as cheese riot!

Now before you read this chapter, I must reinforce something. This story DOES have a plot. I promise it'll start to make sense next chapter. But this isn't just a romance that I stuck Action/Adventure onto the end. There is a plot. And a damned good one might I add, took me weeks to come up with. Never fear.

* * *

I knocked on the door outside of Number 10 of the 'Jensing.' I may have spent more hours outside this flat than in it. I had walked outside there for hours on numerous occasions: the night I realized Hermione's daughter was my daughter as well, the night I had finally admitted to Hermione I loved her, the night I had to tell her that our old classmate, Seamus Finnigan, had died after a spell went awry.

Luckily, I was outside this time for a much more pleasant reason. Three knocks, a pause, and another knock. I heard a voice inside the flat squeal in pleasure. The door was swiftly open and two arms wrapped around my legs.

"Daddy!"

"Hey, Bake," I said, pulling my daughter up into my arms and carrying her back inside her mum and aunt's flat. "How was your day?"

She pushed the door closed behind me and gave me a saber-toothed grin. "I played in Uncle Fred and Uncle George's room today. I found so much good stuff there!"

"Like what?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well…" she began, twirling a piece of curly red hair around her finger, "stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"No-stal-gic stuff."

I put her on her feet to glare at her suspiciously. "Baker, you don't even know what nostalgic means."

"Mummy!" Baker called to her mum, who I only then noticed had set up camp at her desk in the corner of the room, hunched over a piece of parchment. She had other parchment thrown all over the place, and a very crumpled _Daily Prophet_ set out in front of her. "Daddy says I don't know what nostalgic means!"

Without even looking up, Hermione called, "Daddy can't even spell nostalgic."

"I can too!" I yelled defensively.

Baker looked back up, laughing at me. "You can't even spell nostalgic, Daddy."

"Why, you little--" I bent down and tickled her. Giggling, she ran away from me. I caught her just as she jumped over the couch, hoping Hermione hadn't noticed. I shook my head vigorously at Baker and put her back on the floor.

Then, I decided I should be fatherly. Well, as fatherly as you can be when you're actually a five year old trapped in a twenty-five year old's body. I mean, come on. "Baker, why don't you go ahead and change into something warmer? You're going to need it for the match tonight."

"Match," Baker repeated, her eyes going wide. "Quidditch, quidditch, quidditch! We're going to see Quidditch."

"Not if you aren't ready in twenty minutes," I told her in that bullshit fatherly voice again.

"Oh no!" she said dramatically, turning and running towards her bedroom. I heard her bedroom door slam shut behind her and assumed clothes were being tossed all over the wasteland Hermione referred to as Baker's room.

Speaking of my fiancée (that could be the weirdest thing I've ever called Hermione in my life)… I walked casually over to where she was still very much engrossed in her work and pulled her quill playfully away from her. She grabbed it back.

"What's the matter with you, Ron? You don't just take away someone's quill while they're working! What if I just walked up to you while you were fighting with some Death Eater and stole your wand?"

Well, so much for 'Hi, love, how was your day?' "Would you do that?" I questioned.

"Now, which sounds better. 'I've read better toilet paper than your garbage' or 'If I want to see bull crap, I'll move to a farm, thanks'?"

"Well my day was fine, thanks for asking, Hermione," I mumbled.

"Ron, I'm serious. This is a real issue here."

"Suuuuuuuuuure."

"Ronald Weasley!"

"Fine, fine. Now, _darling_, what exactly are you doing?"

"I'm writing a letter to the editor of the _Daily Prophet_ about how bad this paper is. I fully intend for the article to be so good, they will have to print it, but I can't think of anything to write! It's like my mind's built a block around it."

"Ok," I began, crouching down next to her like I even had the ability to help her with her writing, "what do you have so far?"

She turned to face me. "I'm doing it again, aren't I, Ron?"

"Doing what?"

"Ignoring you. Oh, I'm sorry, _darling_," she finished, a small smile playing at her lips. Quite suddenly, those lips had met mine. I felt rather elated at this sudden turn of events.

Hearing Baker's door open, Hermione and I pulled away like teenagers about to be caught snogging by our professor.

"So, who's playing tonight?" Hermione questioned, crumpling up her latest attempt and pulling out a fresh parchment.

"England and Bulgaria," I said, taking the parchment away from her again, un-crumpling the old one and turning it over to the back. "I'm not buying you parchment for your birthday _again_. It's just not romantic."

"Does Viktor still play?" she asked, re-crumpling the paper and getting the one I had pulled away from her.

"Krum? Viktor Krum?" I said, groaning.

Baker was skipping through the room in a completely pink ensemble. She stopped in front of the two of us. "Viktor Krum is a big, stupid, burly git. And I hate him."

"You shouldn't say that about people, Baker," Hermione said sweetly. Baker shrugged and skipped into the kitchen.

Hermione looked back up at me, both eyebrows raised. "Big, stupid, _and_ burly. Wow, your vocabulary gets a little bigger every day."

I smiled guiltily. "You don't think _I _told her that."

"Think? Why, no, nothing of the sort. I _know _you told her that."

Hoping to get out of trouble, I chanted, "Krum still plays for Bulgaria."

As if suddenly remembering something, Hermione stood up next to me. "You aren't going to Gris' thing tonight?"

"Why _would_ I go to Gris' thing?"

"Well, she invited me, so I just assumed she invited you too."

"That's a big no. Anthony only gave me the tickets because he was going to Gris' thing."

"Oh, this is some ex-boyfriend thing, isn't it? Yes, one of those stupid 'Guy's Laws.'"

"Come again?"

"The 'Code of Guys.' Like you don't hug each other or express love towards one another…ever. Well one of the Codes must be you don't go to your ex-girlfriend's thing if her present boyfriend is there. Right?"

She smiled hopefully, as if she had just discovered one of the most exciting things in the universe. I shrugged. "Sure."

"Oh, so that's not the case? Well, I guess I'm going to invite Viktor to my engagement party."

"Yes! Yes, it's a code already," I said, throwing my hands up.

"I thought so."

I moved toward her, dead set on resuming our previous activity. As our lips met, I grabbed onto her hand and felt the cold hard metal of her engagement ring. I pulled it up to my face for examination.

"So when are we going to tell everybody…about this I mean," I said, gesturing to the ring.

"I assumed." She examined the ring as well, and traced her fingers over mine. "Well, my mum did invite us to dinner next week for my birthday party."

"Go on."

"I was thinking," she continued, rocking back and forth, "we would tell everybody then."

"Genius," I said, once again tired of this talking. As I moved back in, Baker burst back through the kitchen door, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the fireplace so hard, I tripped over a piece of parchment on the carpet. That one—the one Hermione had refused to reuse.

I knew it. Nobody ever listens to me.

* * *

"'_Krum Amazing Again; England Didn't Stand a Chance: Last night, in a disappointing game for England fans, Viktor Krum caught the snitch in the first thirty seconds of the match._' Did you hear that, Weasley?! Thirty seconds. THIRTY SECONDS!"

"I heard it," I grunted.

"'_A stunned silence met the stadium as people tried to realize what had just happened. Slowly, the silence became clapping, even by the most diehard England fans, at the twenty-eight year old's amazing talent._'Was it as incredible as it sounds, Weasley? You were there, right?"

"Oh yeah, I was there all right. Stupid Krum."

"That sounded a bit bitter. Are you a big England supporter there, Weasley?"

"No, I could care less if bloody England won. But Viktor Krum is a big, stupid, burly git. And I hate him."

"He seems like a nice guy," Colton Mosley, my fellow Auror said, flashing a picture of Krum and his teammates taking a victory lap at me.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, rolling my eyes. "My daughter cried for an hour after that game because she was so disappointed that she didn't get to see more than thirty seconds of a match. It was her first Quidditch match, you know that? Could Krum be anymore selfish?"

"Sounds like someone has some resentment against a certain Viktor Krum."

"Don't. What's with you anyway? Are you gay for Krum or something?"

He smirked. "So, that's where you were last night?" Mosley said, continuing to flip through the paper. "I noticed you weren't at the Healer Banquet. I sat with Hermione, you know."

"_You _sat with Hermione?" I repeated suspiciously.

"Yeah. Merlin, does she clean up nice or what? Anyway, I saw she was alone and I was as well, so we sat together. I asked her where you were."

"As I said before, I was taking my and _Hermione's _daughter to a Quidditch match."

"I know, I know," Mosley said, throwing up defensive hands. "I'm not trying to steal your girlfriend or anything, mate."

I didn't think I'd ever seen Mosley not try to steal someone else's girl. He just thought he could get anything with his dark hair and dark eyes. Not my Hermione. She wasn't even into stuff like that. Not that I should trust _him_ anyhow. Stupid pervert.

"So, you _didn't_ sit with Hermione because you thought she 'cleaned up nice?'"

"I'm _not_ trying to steal Hermione. She needed someone to sit with, so I sat with her. So she wouldn't be lonely. It's because I'm not a total and complete jackass, Weasley. So you can go be distrustful somewhere else."

I snorted. Like that was going to happen.

"Speaking of a certain Miss Granger," Mosley continued, showing me an inset in the _Daily Prophet_. "I see she has penned another article for the _Prophet_. And she's not complimenting them on the new layout, either."

"Let me see it," I said, making a grab for the paper.

"I think not," Mosley said, spreading the paper out in front of him. He cleared his throat dramatically and began to read. "'_Wizarding Children: A Rebuttal_.'" He looked up from the paper. "Clever, amazing she likes you." _Ahem. _"'_Last week, I had the pleasure (or displeasure, as it were) of reading your wonderful article about how Wizarding children our being ruined by society. I tend to disagree with the author (B.S. Imadethisup) of the article about whom the blame should be laid on for the increasing number of lazy children. I myself happen to be blessed with a daughter.' I won't go into details about how I got her, but let's just say that Ron Weasley had the pleasure of stealing my innocence and shagging me senseless. In fact, he had me going for so long--_"

I ripped the paper away from him. "I think I'll save this for my later reading pleasure."

"Hey, just telling it like it is, right, Weasley?" he asked, nudging me suggestively with his elbow.

"Yes, thanks for that, Mosley."

"So, it's _not _like that?"

"Look, Mose, if I get the urge to tell you storied about my relationship, I'll let you know. Otherwise, you can shove it."

"Listen, Weasley. I've known Hermione for over a year now and you for going on four. You two just don't work together. I don't get it. She's smart and knowledgeable about so many things, and you're…well, quite frankly, you're a dumb ass."

"If this weren't Auror headquarters for the entire United Kingdom, and I wouldn't be fired for doing so, I would probably take you out right now," I said coolly.

Mosley tossed back his head and laughed. I should've taken him down anyway. We were the only two here.

While contemplating the fact, Mosley turned to me. "So, what is a conversation between you two like exactly? You just let her do all the talking, I would suppose. You can't have much to insert."

Was this jerk trying to get a rise out of me?

Yet another part of my brain was taking over. Colton Mosley, idiot of Auror headquarters, was right. Hermione was way too good for me. She was way too good to have ever had my daughter. She was so perfect in so many ways.

Hermione Granger wasn't the kind of girl most people would stop and stare at on the side of the street. She wasn't a particular beauty to anyone else.

But I had to stop every time her face floated into my head.

And when I thought about it, I didn't want to marry Hermione so I could 'shag her senseless' (not that I'm putting up any complaints, if that's what she wants). I wanted to marry her so I could wake up to her dark cinnamon eyes on mine or her stupid bushy hair obscuring my entire view.

"Weasley, could you stop staring at me like that? You're making me uncomfortable."

I blinked and found that I was most definitely _not_ staring into Hermione's face. I grimaced and looked away.

"Aren't you just—bloody hell! Could they be a little less forward about it!?"

Mosley extracted a glowing silver wand from the back of his pocket and rubbed his backside, looking sour. He had received some special Auror's call.

And apparently it was very important because he disapparated on the spot, without a second look in my direction.

So, that was it. It would just be another afternoon of Harry and I and our lunch (which would probably be sandwiches…_again_).

Speaking of…where did that little bugger get to with my lunch? I was bloody starving.

* * *

A/N: I really do love this chapter. You know when Hermione was talking about her editorial? That's exactly how I felt while writing this chapter, but then it came to me and I loved it. There was this Quidditch match in the chapter, but I took out this stupid subplot so it was kinda pointless. Anyway, that's what happened in it anyway.

Anywhodigger, read and review. Much love! –LA

Review Avenue (based on Ocean Avenue by Yellowcard)

There's a place at the end of Laurie's stories  
Where all you guys can click and review  
It'll be so fun, it'll feel so right  
Clicking all day and reviewing all niiiiiiiight  
Reviewing all niiiiiiiiiiiiight!!!!!!

HPbabe143: Wow, I hope you send in a million reviews. It would certainly make me smile.

graceheartrupie9110: Ooh, thanks! Love ya too!

candyhearts23: Aw, you're so sweet! Thanks!

x-everywhere-x: Yes, I do enjoy Harry and his smart aleck comments in this story! Go, Harry, go!

Surfmyturf: I'm glad you like Ron's pov. I was a little worried people would like bang my head into a wall or something. Lol.

Ronniekins: You shouldn't have said that. Now I'm going to expect tons and tons of reviews from you. Glad you like it! And thanks for making me feel better about the review count!!! Also, I do use the 'darling' thing, but strictly in a sarcastic way. You caught that, right?

Mary: Ooh, thanks bunches!

Kathleen: Aw, I know, isn't he the greatest?

Ilikechicken: No, you're my hero! Breaks into Ricky Martin song

Lisa Riddle: Hi! I'm so glad YOU'RE back! Yey! I'm glad you like it. Everyone needs a Ron, don't they?!

PiNaYPeAcHiE: Ron's twisted mind is becoming my twisted mind. I'm so glad everyone likes my new story! Squeals along with you

Miss Mione: Ok, to answer your question, this is a little over a year after LTG. The title doesn't mean too much, it just had to do with time, and sound a little similar to its prequel's title!

Piratingspiderelf: Yey, I'm glad you liked it! And thanks for telling me about your computer. We should start a 'Gay/Queer computers suck!' club. Or…not.

Alenor: Thanks, buddy! Sorry, I'm a little out there today, never fear if I refer to you as buddy. Glad you like it!

PinkyTheSnowman: Maybe Harry and Ginny will get back together. I mean, what fun would I have if I went through a whole story and didn't get SOMEBODY together? There's a reason they broke up you know nudgenudge, winkwink

dancerrdw: Aw, gee. kicks dirt Thanks.

volleyballin17: Oh, you're awesome! You like volleyball and my story! Woot!

Tynwfiel: I'm so glad you're excited. does 1,2 step

Tria Marie Val: Thanks! I'm glad you liked it and I certainly hope you like this.


	3. Tipsy

A/N: Gosh, you guys! How can you not like Mosley?! Maybe I'm just biased cause he is like the most fun character to write in the history of time. He seriously is. Anyway, you guys know by now how great cheese riot is. Awesomest beta ever, if I do say so myself. And I do! If you wanna have a like insert my favorite thought in this chapter: Kingsley shall be sizing the two of them up and you shall think "Gross, Shacklebolt, they're taken!" just remember that when you get to that part. And think of cheese riot.

Onward readers!

* * *

"About time!" I exclaimed as Harry came strolling through the door with a white paper bag in his hand. "I was ready to eat the bloody desk."

"You would be," Harry sniggered, tossing the bag into my outstretched hand.

I opened the bag. "_Sandwiches?! _Why sandwiches?" I groaned, tossing the bag onto my desk.

"Sorry, mate, it's all I could afford. I'm not exactly made of money you know."

"Yeah, right."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're right. I'm bloody rich." He plopped down in front of my desk. "So, did anything exciting happen while I was gone?"

"Oh, nothing much, Mosley just got called out on some top secret mission," I said sarcastically.

"Figures. We just sit here while everyone else does every important thing in the world. Some sort of useful we are, huh?"

"I hate it here!" I said, pummeling my fist on my desk. "I'm so sick of being no help to anyone!"

"Hey, hey, watch the sandwiches!" Harry said, relieving my desk of food once again.

I looked up at him, smiling and shaking my head simultaneously. "It's awful."

"Don't worry, I feel you pain."

"All right, I'm now so hungry those sandwiches are starting to look good. How 'bout it?" I said, holding an open hand in Harry's direction. He threw my sandwich in my hand and I ripped the paper off it. I sank my teeth in, gnawing through the taste of ham, Swiss cheese, tomatoes and…what was that?

I spat my bite back out. "What the bloody hell kind of poison did you put in my sandwich?"

Harry smiled, taking a bite out of his sandwich as well. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about, Mr. Weasley."

I took another bite. "I'm going to die, aren't I? This is sick!"

"Don't eat it then," Harry told me in a 'duh-you-dumb-ass' voice.

"What did you do to this perfectly good food?!" I demanded shaking the sandwich in his direction. A tomato escaped from its bread-hold and flew through the air in slow motion. It hit Harry directly on the forehead, and dripped tomato juice on his glasses. It sat there, oozing for a few more moments before sliding the length of his face, leaving a sickly red trail down his white shirt, and plopping onto his brand new Air Merlins.

Both of us looked up from the tomato and met each other's eyes. Slowly, Harry said, "You're dead."

Without a second thought, he hurled his sandwich in my direction, where it broke all over my shirt.

I returned fire and soon we were in an all out food fight.

I ducked down behind my desk, laughing hysterically as Harry aimed one of the pieces of bread at me. I popped up to return the bread to its owner when I heard a door slam shut. I froze in midair, Harry and I looking at each other wide eyed.

"_Scourgify!_" we muttered simultaneously, cleaning up the messes on the floor and ourselves. Hadn't we been alone not five seconds ago? What would someone say if they came in and saw us like this?

Kingsley Shacklebolt walked up to us from behind a hall, looking grave. Our smiles were wiped off as Kingsley looked around at us. "Potter, Weasley, how are you?"

We both opened are mouths, getting the 'f' of 'fine' out before being cut off again.

"Good, good," he went on distractedly, looking around as if sizing the two of us up. He made his decision and nodded. "Weasley, can I speak to you?"

I glanced over at Harry. "Sure."

He looked around when I didn't move. "In my office?"

"Oh, yeah." I followed behind him as he made his way back toward his private office, turning and raising an eyebrow in Harry's direction. We giggled, relieved not to have been caught acting like the five year olds we really were.

Shacklebolt shut the door behind me, and I turned toward him, waiting to be given some indication of what was going on.

"Sit," he murmured, making his way behind the desk, and pointing at the chair opposite him. Getting the feeling this was something serious, I took the seat.

Kingsley moved around a bit, pulling a few folders off the cabinet behind his desk. I knew not to say anything. If there was one thing I had learned in Auror training, it was to _never _speak to a superior unless spoken to first.

Finally, Shacklebolt sat down and gave me his full attention. "Weasley, we have an emergency situation."

I moved uncomfortably in my chair, trying to hold in the million questions already flooding my mind. I had _never _been called alone into Shacklebolt's office.

Kingsley looked back down at his papers. "Potter and you have been on the same case for?"

After a moment of silence, I realized I was supposed to speak. "A little over a year, sir."

"Ah, yes," he agreed. "_Time Split; 1996; Wayden, Jamison_."

I nodded.

"And the last lead on this case was?"

"Six months ago."

"Yes," he went on, tossing a folder aside. "Before I tell you what is going on, I must stress one thing. I understand the importance of the 'time split' case. I fully intend to re-team you with Potter as soon as you get back."

Whoa, hold everything. "Get back?" I asked, not being able to hold my question in this time.

"Yes, get back. I'm assigning you a new case."

"What?"

"You're going to be working alone; without Potter. Here," he said, tossing a different folder at me. Printed across the top were the words '_Murder; Madrid, Spain; Collins, Malcolm_.' Well, great, that really cleared things up.

"What does it mean?" I asked, trying not to let the irritation slip into my voice.

"It means that we're sending you undercover into Spain…to prevent a murder."

Suddenly, my adrenaline started pumping. This was huge! I was going to be going somewhere, doing something! Bloody hell, I would finally be helping! I could've let out a whoop of joy. Until…

"You'll be leaving in two days. Don't worry though. I wouldn't expect this mission to take over six, seven months."

"Wait a minute. I have to leave?"

"Yes."

" For _six_ months?"

"That's what's so huge about this case. You will be the character twenty four-seven. This is the most important case I've ever put someone as young as you on. But I know how well you did in the Disguise part of your Auror training. I trust you, Weasley. I want you to understand that."

I gulped. Was he telling me I had to leave? "I'm still a little out of the loop here, sir. I'll be _living_ in Spain?"

He nodded.

"And I'm going to _be _this Collins bloke."

"Yes. You're going to keep us in touch with what's going on. You'll go about his daily affairs and keep a sharp eye."

"So, I won't have time off or anything. To see my family? To write?"

"The only contact you will be permitted will be between the Ministry, to keep us informed of what's going on."

Whoa. "You mean I have to leave my family and friends behind for six months and not tell them where I'm going or write them or anything?! What about Harry?"

"He'll stay here on the 'time split' case."

A thousand thoughts went through my mind. What about my life and family here? What about Baker…and Hermione?!

"Sir, do you understand what you're asking of me? I have a life here."

"Weasley, I wouldn't be asking you if this weren't such a desperate situation."

"But—but, sir, I have a five-year-old daughter here. And a girlfriend…and sir," I lowered my voice, "I just proposed! I'm going to get married. I can't just pick up and leave. How would I explain that to my fiancée?"

Kingsley shook his head and leaned in closer to me, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Look, Ron, I know about your circumstances. But this is your job; this is what you agreed to. And I'm sorry. But right now, your country needs you."

I ran a hand through my hair, letting it all sink over me. This was it. I had to do this.

After much contemplation, I finally nodded. "I'll do it. It's my responsibility and I accept it."

"Good man," Kingsley said, stuffing the folder in my hand. "I know you're the best man for the job."

Bullshit. I'm the _only _man for the job.

"You'll leave early Friday morning. You understand?"

I nodded despondently.

"Why don't you take the rest of today and tomorrow off? You can report here at four in the morning of Friday. Will that be ok?"

Only if you 'Avada Kedavra' me now.

"That's it then."

I stood up silently from the chair and reached for the door.

"And, Ron?"

I turned back to look at him. "Try to relax, and tell Hermione I said 'hi.'"

Yeah, I'll tell her right after she shoves my engagement ring up my—

"I will."

I slowly opened the door and walked out. I leaned up against the glass pane and banged my head against it a couple of times.

_Relax?_

Yeah, I'd sooner marry Harry.

* * *

"Kid, go home."

"I'll go home when I'm good and ready, thanks. But as long as I'm paying, I reserve the right to sit my ass in this chair as long as I want," I rattled off to a tall brown headed lady.

"Listen, hun, you're not drunk but you're headed that way, and I wouldn't know what to do with you if you did get drunk. Go home."

I rolled my eyes and turned to look at the lady better. "Listen, _hun_, my whole life just got screwed over today when I was told I will be leaving my daughter and fiancée behind for sixth months to go to a situation where I could possibly lose my life. So, I repeat, I can sit this chair in my ass as long as I want."

"Like I said, you're headed that way," the lady said, casting a stern look over me. Either I was really getting smashed or she was softening up to me. She sat down in the chair opposite mine, giving me a look. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-three," I muttered after counting it out on my fingers.

"That's about what I would've guessed."

"Congratulations, but I'm not giving out prizes today."

She smiled at me (at least, I think she did). "How old is your daughter?"

"Five."

"Good Lord, someone's been busy, haven't they?"

"If that was some sort of sex joke, I'm a little too intoxicated to understand it."

"Sorry, I don't make sex jokes to people young enough to be my children."

"Thanks for the consideration."

"You bet. So, how long we planning on staying here?"

"As long as it takes."

"For what?"

"I dunno. For me to pass out, I guess."

"If that's the case then, I definitely think it's time to put this away," she said, taking my last shot of firewhiskey away from me.

"You will not!"

"Oh, but I just did."

"I'm not paying for that, you know."

"Don't worry about it. Here's a toothbrush," the lady said, conjuring one out of midair. "Nobody likes kissing someone who smells like you do."

"What are you talking about?"

"Go brush your teeth and then go home to your fiancée."

"She's not there. Won't be for hours."

"Then, wouldn't it be nice to be waiting for her?"

* * *

A/N: Ok, so honestly, you guys, I am absolutely _thrilled _about the number of reviews I got for this chapter. But, seriously, writing twenty-three review responses is rather, time consuming and paper consuming. Would anyone be seriously offended if I was more selective about the reviews I responded to? Like, if I only responded to ones with good critiques or ones with questions about the story? I'll have all the responses for this one of course, but I'm just saying…

It's my story, you'll review if you want to  
Review if you want to  
Review if you want to  
But, I would review if it was your story tooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!

Shortie522: Oh, thanks for thinking I have good ideas!! You've been slightly introduced to the conflict, but as you know, I'm always one for a good plot twist!

Alanna of Pirate Swoop: Glad you like it!

Cheese riot: No, you didn't you non-reviewer of chapter 1!! And yeah, I think that is part of the actual song. I switched the wording up a bit, it's like "And it felt so right" and I changed it to "it'll feel so right" which is supremely clever of me…or not.

Sakura1221: yeah, Ron's pov all the way, baby!

LoVinSoMe1SpeCiaL: Author alert is where you can get e-mails sent to you whenever one of the author's on your 'Author Alert' list updates a story. Like this one, for example. To edit your personal profile, you must login, and under that page you come to when you login, there you click 'Settings' on the left toolbar. There, you'll see where to key your profile!

Jeanne: Glad to hear it!

Lisa Riddle: Well, well, someone's ahead of themselves aren't they? Lol, jk! I'm glad I have the ability to make _someone _laugh. Lol

Waterandsky04: Oh, I love meeting new people who read LTG! It makes me so fuzzy inside.

Lafawnduh: I'm not sure I'll straight out hex Mosley. Isn't that too easy?

Piratingspiderelf: Yes, perhaps Krum could be the spokesman for our club. "Computers, like me!!!!"

HPbabe143: Well, don't you just rock out loud?! I thought the ending was interesting too. Or maybe Ron and I were simultaneously hungry?

Bhekie: Oh, yey, I made TWO people laugh. I too enjoyed the article, for the same reasons you did. I actually giggled for a moment when I thought of it. Isn't that sad how much I entertain myself?

Ronlover05: Always happy to mention my awesome reviewers! Glad you like it!

Alenor: Yeah, I've seen it. I think the emotional value was lost on me as a second grader though. Or whenever I saw it. Shrug

Ilikechicken: Thanks! You rule forever!

PiNaYPeAcHiE: Ain't he cute though?

PinkyTheSnowman: God, Pinky, I can't just come out and TELL you if they're going to get together. Context clues, babe gotta stick to 'em. Glad you liked Ron, glad you liked the chapter, you totally rock out loud!!!! (which is totally my new favorite saying so feel VERY honored for it to be bestowed upon your awesome name!!!)

Seekerpeeker: like I'd let him blow it…again! I think he will.

LunaAqua: HOLD UP! Wait a minute! I made THREE people laugh?! Falls over dead

Dancerrdw: Oh, thanksthanksthanks!

Miss Mione: Hem…maybe I'll tell you about my second favorite auror later. Thanks for all the nice stuff you said about last chapter. This one's not as good…but still all that niceness was awesome! I'm glad you like the title. I mean, you were talking about the chapter title right? "…she got runned over by a damned old traaaaaaaaaaaaain!" if you have no idea what I'm talking about, ignore me!

Tynwiel: Thou shalt not harm Mosley. GAH! Jk! Did you find her double meaning…hmm.


	4. Don't Give Up on Me

A/N: Oh my God! You mean that girl, that LauriAnn, the one who wrote 'Long Time Gone' and said she was supposedly writing a sequel, 'A Moment Ago,' you mean, she's still alive!

Yes, indeedy my friends, I'm back in action. For new readers, I usually don't take this long to update stories. Unfortunately, after my last update, life happened. For more information, you can check out my bio, I don't really feel like typing up the situation again. Waits patiently while interested parties flip over to bio, yep, and then, this Chapter went and deleted itself when I was almost finished, forcing me to start over again, rework things, and get the plot going a little sooner. Yey!

It's short and slightly OOC for my own taste, but I want to thank my awesome beta _Cheese Riot_ and all my awesome reviewers, especially **ilikechicken** for your kind words. It's people like you who make writing fanfic so much fun!

"I know you didn't get off work early just to come see me!" a voice called out through the kitchen which was connected to the family room in Ginny and Hermione's flat. A bag plopped down onto the tiled floor and footsteps approached the couch, my current place of seating.

"How was your day?"

I grunted in response, and my face was turned rather more violently than I would've liked to meet Hermione's.

Once she finally let go of my head and began to drag her way around the couch, I slumped back in my chair again. Maybe if I sat still long enough, she'd think she was hallucinating.

Her hand traced over the couch's edge and she plopped down onto the cushion, stretching her legs out in front of her and right over my lap.

"What's up with you?" she asked, wiggling her clipped toes in my face.

I sighed. She would know I was lying…she always knew. "Nothing," I said monotonously.

"Nothing, huh?" she leaned back. "Doesn't look like nothing."

I forced a small smile in her direction. "Just got off early to come see my two favorite girls."

"Well, one's not here. She happens to be spending the night at Penny Longbottom's house."

"Oh."

"But, me? Well, I'm not doing anything tonight…if you want to—I dunno, hang out or something." She grinned sheepishly in my direction. She knew perfectly well what _I _would want to do, but I also knew perfectly well it wasn't going to happen.

"I might be able to squeeze you into my schedule," I said in the most joking voice I could manage.

"Oh, could you!" she feigned.

I shrugged. "How was your day?"

"Oh, it was great. Ally and I designed this really great display for a new shipment of books we had gotten in, but Miles said it was 'over the top.' Then, Ally did her little 'but you love me' bit and he caved."

"That's all?" I asked, prompting for her to keep the conversation going. Maybe I could just let her talk until I had to go to Spain and she wouldn't notice when I left.

"Well, I called a couple more people about that program I want to start. Remember the one I told you about? To encourage kids to read? Well, no one seems that interested." I knew Hermione talked about her job and coworkers with enthusiasm, but everyone, including me, knew Hermione Granger was destined for more than to be a clerk in a bookstore. That's why everyone encouraged her editorials. I had know Hermione was going to do something huge ever since the first day I met her, I just never imagined I would be included in it. "Do you think I could get the Ministry involved?" Hermione asked, bringing me out of my reverie.

"I dunno, I could talk to Dawlish about it," I told her, wondering in the back of my mind when I would have time for that.

She nodded. "Thanks, sweetie!" she said, ruffling my hair playfully. She moved up from her position on the couch. "I'm going to go change into something more comfortable, all right?"

I shrugged again and just barely caught the suspicious look I was being given. "Mind if I take a shower?"

She smiled. "Please do." And laughing, she walked into her room and shut her door.

I went into the bathroom and peeled my clothes off onto the floor. I turned on the hot water and stepped into the shower, not even noticing how boiling hot it was. I stood there for awhile, just thinking about my situation. With growing frustration, I banged my head up against the wall.

Not a good idea.

The pain all came at once—the fact that I had a knot on my head, my skin was on fire, and that the moment I jumped out of the shower, I slipped on the tiled floor and busted my chin on the toilet. I cursed, putting a pair of jeans back on, and vigorously wiping blood away from my chin.

I heard a noise outside the door. "Ron? Are you ok in there?"

I sighed and leaned my head up against the door.

"Yes."

"Well, it sounds like someone's dying in there or something."

I opened the door to face my fiancée. She had on a pair of gray sweats and a giant Cannons t-shirt that surely had belonged to my in the not so far off past.

God, she was beautiful.

"Are you ok?"

I shook my already pounding head and leaned up against the doorway.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Now or never…

"Not really."

"Here, let me do something about your chin," she said, looking at me sadly and pulling her wand out. She gave it one complicated flick and I felt the pain leave.

"Better," I mumbled.

She kissed it pleasantly. "I hope so."

I followed behind her over to the couch and took my seat beside her. I leaned over, in an attempt at another kiss, but was brutally turned away.

"Ron, I think we need to talk."

Of course we do! And we need to talk right bloody now.

"Yes," I answered impatiently.

"I don't know how I feel about this right now."

"About what?"

"About us."

"What?" I said, shaking the piling thoughts out of my head.

"You and I, we're not getting along so great lately."

"What! We've never gotten along that great!" I replied, my anger rising to the surface.

"I'm just not sure we're ready for this."

"For what!"

"This!" she answered angrily, showing me the ring on her hand angrily. "I'm starting to think you and I are not ready for _this_!"

"You're being ridiculous."

"Oh yeah! Well, right now, you're just proving me right."

"Whatever."

"Oh, yes, whatever, now that's mature."

"Stop mocking me," I said, barely audibly.

"And you can't even talk to me about something that's bothering you this much. And now I'm worried!"

"Hermione, please."

"Then, please tell me what's wrong."

"Have you ever thought for one second that I'm not telling you because I want to protect you from all of this?"

"Great, now I feel really sheltered."

"I swear no one's ever thought about themselves as much as you do."

"Me!"

"Yes, you."

"Ron, I don't want to do this right now."

"Oh, really, cause you sure wanted to do this five minutes ago!"

"Here."

"What?"

"Here," she said, twisting off her ring, and holding it out to me. Tears were streaming down her face. "Here, take it."

"Hermione," I whispered, gazing at the ring George and I had spent a whole day searching for; the ring I had spent half a year's salary on. "Hermione, please, for the love of God, don't do this. Don't do this right now."

"Just take it," she said, dropping it in my hand. "Take it and go home."

"I…can't. Please keep it."

Hermione turned away from me, crying, and walked silently to her room, closing the door behind her.

I fell back onto the couch Hermione and I had left during the course of our fighting, and twirled Hermione's ring around in my hand for the second time. I thought about going back to my flat, but there, I'd just face Harry, grilling me about my new assignment.

No, I was not going to let this happen, not like this.

With renewed vigor, I walked to Hermione's room, cast _Alohomora_, and pulled open the door.

"Hermione?"

She was lying on her bed, crying.

"Hermione, I"

A brilliant reflection of light on Hermione's wardrobe caught my attention. "Go away, Ron!" she mumbled.

I walked over and picked up a small silver mirror, twirling it around in my hand. "Where did you get this?" I asked curiously.

I stared at my reflection. Was I really that pale? I checked in the wardrobe…nope.

Hermione looked up, wiping at her face with her sweatshirt sleeve.

"I've had it for over a year."

"Hermione, you stole this from the Department of Mysteries!" I said, suddenly hit with a realization.

"I did not!" she yelled, getting up, now looking absolutely furious of my accusation.

"Hermione, I know for a fact you did!"

"Don't accuse me of stealing!"

"I will if"

"Get out!"

"No."

Hermione reached in her pocket and showed me her wand. "GET OUT!"

"Hermione, have you lost your mind!" I yelled back. At that exact moment, her wand collided with the mirror, and I felt a mysterious force pulling me towards her.

Suddenly, we were both twirling around, colors and shapes, voices swirling all around us.

With a sudden jolt, we hit solid ground, Hermione's wand still pointed at me.

We both stared around.

"Where are we?"

A/N: As promised, I am only answering a few reviews which I think are relevant! You can read them though, they might contain hints to the future. FWAH!

Kikwiblue: Luna was Harry's girlfriend, she died when Harry was in sixth year. I hope to get more into that late. Hermione was in France for about eight or nine months, through most of her pregnancy. And Ron just can't, but it's not going to matter too much for awhile.

PinkytheSnowman: I would never insult you! Thanks for liking my commentary, it's fun to write.

And to everyone else: Glad I'm not predictable and you liked the food fight. You all rock, and I'll try to get even more reviews answered next chapter! I promise it will be out in no more than 2 weeks time.


	5. Welcome to My Life

A/N: See, I told you it'd be out soon. And it's super long and super explaining and super in-character. Maybe not super, but not nearly as bad as last chappie coughLisaRiddlecough. Teehee!

* * *

"I said, 'where are we?'" Hermione repeated.

"I know what you said, and how am I supposed to know?" I answered coolly, sticking the ring in my pocket for safekeeping.

Hermione looked around for a moment. "Well, I guess I do know where we are," she said matter-of-factly.

"Oh, yes, and where is that?"

"We're at Hogwarts."

She smiled sarcastically as I looked around. Dammit! We were at Hogwarts.

"And how exactly did we _get_ to Hogwarts?" I asked, dying to see a puzzled expression from Ms. Know-It-All.

"_I_ don't know."

"It's not like you can just _Apparate _into Hogwarts," I told her.

"You say that like I don't know it," she snapped.

"What the hell was the matter with that mirror you stole!"

"I didn't _steal_ anything."

"Whatever."

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but before words could come out, we heard voices drifting through the hall… and straight towards us.

"Duck," I said, pushing her into an empty classroom to our left. I closed the door to where I could just spy out through it.

"'Duck' wasn't even applicable there."

"Shut it!" I said, attempting to put my hand over her mouth and missing rather fatally, hitting my hand on the desk behind her and cursing.

"Now, I wrote an eight foot parchment on the theory. That's not too much, is it?" a young girl's voice rang out.

"No, I'll be more than delighted to read a paper where someone was actually fascinated by the subject," came a second, more familiar voice, followed by a familiar laugh.

Right then, two female figures walked past our hiding spot. One was a girl of about sixteen with long, blonde, curly hair, the second was…Hermione!

Hermione and I looked from each other, back out to the woman in the hallway and our mouths simultaneously dropped.

We could only see her for a second, but I took in everything I needed to in that second. The other Hermione had much shorter hair and walked with a _clicking _noise. High heels that my Hermione would never dare to wear. She seemed to be a…teacher.

I shut the door as quietly as possible and turned to Hermione. "Did you see…?"

She was taking deep breaths and kept mumbling, "Oh my, oh my, oh my…"

I sat on top of a desk, and folded my hands together, thinking.

After a couple of moments, Hermione hit me on the leg. "Ron!"

"What?" I asked, massaging the spot on my leg.

"Ron, do you know where we are?"

"No?"

"Ron, I think we may be…you know the time split and how there're two alternate universes? Ron, somehow that mirror, it…it showed us ourselves from the other universe…and now we're here!"

I sat still, baffled for a moment. "Well, that's a brilliant theory, Hermione, but there's nothing to prove it."

"Does the fact that _I _just walked through the hall and _I'm_ sitting right here not help my case at all?"

I sighed, not apt to agree with anything she was saying at the moment. "I suppose it _is_ a rather good theory."

"Well, you know what we need to do, right?"

"Click our heels and say, 'I wish I was in my universe'?"

Hermione looked at me oddly for a moment. "Pardon?"

I shrugged. "Harry said something like that once."

She shook her head in my direction. "We need to go see Dumbledore!"

"Dumbledore's not here. Remember, I told you, he pretended to die so he could do more undercover work for the Ministry."

"Ron, if we're in another dimension, there is no Voldemort, have you not forgotten! We killed him; this is a happy world, with no problems whatsoever. Dumbledore is still here." Hermione ran a hand through her hair. "This cannot be happening."

"I say you're jumping to awful large conclusions in an awful short amount of time."

"I've seen that reflection of myself in _that _mirror hundreds of times—and that was the reflection—walking past this room we're in now."

"Well, let's go then," I sighed.

"C'mon," she said, leading the way out of the room, me following close behind her.

We traced the familiar hallways of our youth to the stone gargoyle hiding the Headmaster's office from wondering eyes. I looked around, bemusedly.

"So, what's the brilliant plan, love?"

Hermione looked daggers at me. She thought it was cute when I called her 'love' when we were getting along; when we were fighting, she thought I was the devil himself, no matter what I called her.

"Well, we need the password," she replied as if I were slightly dense.

"Professor!" she suddenly screeched as an Asian looking man walked down the hall perpendicular to us.

The man stopped and gave Hermione a funny look and myself an even odder one. So, apparently, I wasn't a teacher in this world either; big surprise there.

"Yesssssssssssssssssss?" the small man replied.

"Professor, I've forgotten the password. Any chance you could remind me?" Hermione asked sweetly. I rolled my eyes; run away while you can, buddy.

"Sugar quill," the man whispered so we could barely hear him. With one last glance in my direction, he turned and walked away.

Hermione looked at me and grinned. "Sugar quill," she said, her gaze never leaving my face. The gargoyle hopped to life and sprang out of the way.

"Ladies first," I said, indicating Hermione should step onto the revolving staircase.

"Wow, the first civilized thing you've said all day," she retorted as we moved up towards the office.

When we reached the door, Hermione knocked and the doors swung open ominously. She and I walked in and found ourselves face to face with our former headmaster.

"Miss Granger, Mister Weasley, I've been waiting for some time now."

Hermione and I looked at each other and raised our eyebrows.

"Please, come, sit, sit. It has been awhile."

Hermione and I walked into the room and took two seats facing Professor Dumbledore, both awed at how quickly he recognized us. He flipped a piece of parchment over and turned to our faces.

"H-how did you know it was us?" I asked.

"Oh, I know a lot about what goes on over there—as I like to call it. By what means you arrived here is what I'm most interested in, though."

"Well, there was a mirror," Hermione began timidly.

Dumbledore nodded. "Thank Merlin the other one fell into good hands."

"Headmaster, let's cut to the chase, do you know why we're here?" I asked abruptly.

"Ah, yes, the chase," Dumbledore said, folding his long fingers together. "I believe the reason you are here is that you two are the ones who have arrived to finish it off, to complete the circle, remerge the worlds."

Wow, and I thought Spain was a big deal.

"I suppose the two of you know all about this, do you not?"

Hermione and I nodded.

"Well, of course, I don't know you _two _personally, I haven't since you were fifteen, but the Dumbledore you know is around. He's been busy, tracking things, keeping in contact with Mr. Potter and yourself, Mr. Weasley."

I nodded. "So, he has been waiting."

"For nearly two years," Dumbledore replied, a twinkle in his eye.

"How are we going to get back?" Hermione asked, concern etched in her face.

"That I do not know. I don't know how long it will take to find a way to get back, unless, by some miracle, you have the mirror with you."

I shook my head solemnly, but Hermione went on. "Professor, you may not know this, but Ron and I—we have a daughter."

Dumbledore nodded. "A five year old, Baker's a lovely name."

"Yes, but, we have to get back to take care of her, this is a life or death situation. Her life is in constant danger."

"I am aware, Miss Granger. As I am aware of your job, Mr. Weasley. I don't want to hold the two of you hostage here, believe me."

When he mentioned my job, I wondered what would happen when I got back to the right place. Would they send me on to Spain anyway? Would they find someone else? Did this Professor Dumbledore know about my mission; he certainly seemed to know about everything else in our lives. I found myself hoping against hope he wouldn't say anything about it in Hermione's presence.

"What about this whole 'saving the world' thing?" I questioned suddenly.

"I can't answer that; we can only understand it as time comes."

The three of us sat in silence for a moment, and I couldn't help but noticing Hermione twirling around a bracelet on her wrist that Baker had made her one day at Mum's.

Suddenly, I felt bad. I had no right to be mad at Hermione. She was concerned about me, and nervous about the future. Why should I yell at her when I should be reassuring her? Why couldn't I talk her through her doubts? More importantly, why couldn't I tell her about one of the most important things in _our _life together?

"Where are we going to stay?" Hermione asked suddenly, dragging me out of my reverie.

"I'll have you set up in teachers' quarters. Separately, I suppose." Dual nods.

Dumbeldore nodded, seeming to be staring straight through me. His forehead creased as he studied my face and I became nervous under his penetrating gaze. He turned to Hermione as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "Before I get someone to come and take you to your room, there's something else I must have you do. Someone you must meet."

Hermione and I looked at each other uncomfortably for a moment.

Without asking our opinion on the matter, Dumbledore pulled out his wand and cast a spell on his voice. Suddenly, we heard the scratching of a quill and gentle breathing through the tip of his wand.

"Professor Granger?"

"Yes?" came a reply using the exact same voice as the woman next to me.

"Would you mind coming up to my office for a moment?"

"Why, yes, Professor. I'm on my way right now." And indeed, we could hear shuffling as she stood up.

"Before you arrive, I must warn you; this could be a small shock."

Sounding curious, the voice responded, "All right. Be there in a moment. _Finite Incantem_," and the noise stopped.

"Well," Dumbledore continued cheerfully, putting down his wand, "before Miss Granger, pardon," he said, nodding towards Hermione, "before _Professor_ Granger arrives, I must lay down a few ground rules."

We both nodded again, and curiosity suddenly pounded through my body. Whatever I wasn't supposed to know, I _had _to know.

"Do not ask Professor Granger anything about her life here; that is her own business. She is going to be shaken to see you, Mr. Weasley. Say nothing about it; she will not talk about it with you. Do not question her about anything personal that has happened here, dwelling on these things will not enrich either of your lives. Most importantly, do not tell her about anything that has happened in your lives in the other universe; it has nothing to do with her, and she will never have it. Understood? You have no daughter, you're not engaged, and you never quit being friends. If she asks, it's not her business."

A sudden knock on the door met our ears, and Dumbledore approached the door gravely. "This will be difficult," he muttered, as he turned the knob.

"Professor, you needed me?" came that all too familiar voice. Hermione suddenly breathed in deeply and grabbed my hand. Obviously she needed me more than she needed to be mad at me right now.

"What if I'm--" she whispered, but with a squeeze of my hand, she stopped abruptly.

Dumbledore continued to mumble to Professor Granger when we all heard a gasp. Hermione closed her eyes as if it was painful, and I could feel her shaking next to me.

Much sooner than we were ready, the short, bushy-haired professor came in the room, and it was obvious to both of us she had been crying.

She seemed not to be the least bit interested in herself from the other universe. Her eyes never left mine from the time she walked in.

"Ron…" she mumbled, tracing her finger over her lips. "Is it really you?" Her crying began again. "Can I--" Her voice caught, and she turned towards Dumbledore, who had followed her back in the room. "I'm sorry, Professor, not today, not right now. I need to go lie down. May I be excused?"

She didn't wait for an answer before tearing out of the room.

My Hermione stood up and pulled me up, wrapping her arms around me. "I don't want to be here," she mumbled.

"I know," I whispered, kissing the top of her head. It was really amazing how much we needed each other when it came down to it, through all the bickering and fighting, we really did love each other.

Now why the hell couldn't I have thought of _that_ before we got into this situation!

There was another knock on the door and a familiar Asian professor stuck him head in the door.

"Professor, I have come to get the…visitors?"

"Yes, Miss Granger, Mister Weasley, I'm sure neither of you know Professor Mai? He teaches Muggle Studies now. He'll be showing you to your rooms. Professor, these are Aurors Granger and Weasley. They'll be staying in teacher chambers. Could you show them the way there?"

"Yes, yes," he said, grabbing Hermione's arm and pulling her away from me, down the stair as fast as he could. "Do you know you look just like--"

"Professor," I said, turning back to Dumbledore.

"I assure you, you are in no danger of losing Hermione to Mai," he said, grinning slightly.

"No, it's not that. It's about the Ron that lives here." Well, I _suppose_ he lives here. "Am I—I mean, is he…is he--"

"No. That is all I can tell you on the matter, Auror Weasley. I am sorry."

"No, it's fine." I nodded, turned away and followed the sound of Mai and my fiancée down the stairs.

* * *

A/N: Awesome, I only wish you guys could read the stuff Cheese Riot suggests I add into it. She's so much funnier than me! Ah, it's probably too kinky for a PG-13 (or whatever the queer ratings are now) anyway. Lol!

Hey, only nine reviews! I can do nine review responses!

Pinky the Snowman: Yey! I'm soooooooo super glad you like it:) Laurie! As for Harry/Ginny and the Big Secret, I suppose you will have to wait patiently, or not!

Alenor: Yes, Ron and Hermione are very immature, bad them!

Laury Weasley: Don't faint! And definitely don't die. I will continue!

Dancerrdw: glad you liked it!

Lisa Riddle: Oh, honey, you are so wonderfully honest. I hated last chapter, I plan to get back to it and rewrite it eventually. I just had to do something, you know? I didn't realize there were that many spelling mistakes, but I will check back. And I love criticism, I live for it!

Cheese Riot: Aw, hell, haven't I already written you something?

Alanpatty07: Ohmigah, you get the predictor of the millennium award, good job, you figured me out! You rock! But, now comes the question, DID they live happily ever after!

Lucid-03-days: You're a chapter behind, doll! lol, such a cool word!

LJ fan: Oh, thanks for your kind words, about my story and everything. I plan to at least somewhat explain Hermione psychosis next chapter!

Best Deception: I sure did fix it! Thanks! Read comment above yours!


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